Midnight and Morning
by tsuchifuru
Summary: At the end of the day, they only feel worse. A series of drabbley stories, featuring Ansem's apprentices.
1. Ienzo

_Hi there! These are a series of drabbles, which I call "die and dictionary drabbles" due to the process in which I write them: I get a die (or surfingwolfqueen) to pick a number 1-6, then I close my eyes and open my dictionary to a random page and run my finger down the page and end up on a word. So I try to connect them. It's fun!_

_Hope you enjoy!_

* * *

It was not the first time Elaeus had been awoken by Ienzo in the middle of the night, and he was sure it would not be the last. The child held on tightly to him, shivering and wide-eyed and ever so warm.

"Ienzo, what's wrong?" Elaeus asked, "Did you have a nightmare again?"

The child nodded, but said nothing. He snuggled against Elaeus, burying himself in the blankets.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Elaeus murmured into the blankets.

Ienzo, again, did not respond. How he'd love to tell his friend of the dream – _how he desperately wanted to forget the dark creatures choking him in the night while Xehanort smiled calmly from somewhere above him and, laughing, pushed him into the oblivion. How he fell and fell into the night without ever crashing into the earth below, where silent safety waited for him_.

But he smiled lightly and, despite the fear in his morning-blue eyes, simply shook his head.

"It was nothing, just a dream." Ienzo lied. "Come morning, I won't remember an inkling of it." he whispered to the night; or, by the sound of the great clock from the hall, morning.

"Well, if you're still a little scared, you can sleep here. I can take you back to your room after you fall asleep." Elaeus said to him. Ienzo nodded, "yeah, that…sounds nice." he said sleepily.

So Elaeus stroked the child's downy hair until he fell asleep. And sure enough, when Ienzo woke in his own room a few hours later, he remembered nothing of the night's omens.

_Ienzo - "omen"_

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a/n – I'm listening to a dirge. It…uh….set the mood. More up soon. Please tell me what you think.


	2. Dilan

Dilan sat in the garden, alone. This particular evening, it did not look as radiant as it was proclaimed to be, because of two things – the first of which being that the part of the garden he was sitting in had been accrued with dandelions instead of the roses, and the second was that Even was not there with him, and that made any piece of scenery less pleasant.

So he stared for a while at the dandelions, running his pink fingertips along the soft feathers of white. He plucked it from the ground and, with a great breath, blew the seeds in every direction that the blessed winds took them. One was sent on a kind wind toward the castle, to where Even was most likely asleep at his desk again, his pencil still in his hand.

Dilan sent out a sort of prayer on the white seed for his dearest friend.

And another for Ansem, who let Even sleep in late this morning.

And one for Braig.

And one for Elaeus.

And one for Ienzo.

And one for Xehanort, even of he was always cold to him and worse to Even.

And one for the duchess's daughter who Ansem was babysitting – Kairi or something - Dilan didn't much like her.

And one for the little girl from the city who'd run into him – the one who had told him she was a ninja. Silly child.

And one for the girl with the ribbon in her hair, who sold flowers, even in the rain, the one who watched that blond boy from behind a wall of flowers.

And one for those boys with whom he sometimes talked with when he went out into the city, who were always trying to whack something with their swords - whether it be boxes, walls, or the flower-girl.

And one for the man who said he'd fly to the Other Worlds one day, because nobody, including Dilan himself, believed him.

And one for the boy who he saw once in the city, the boy with the silver hair and the one dark wing, because Dilan sometimes wondered where the boy's other wing was.

And one for his family, far away.

And one for himself, because he no longer remembered what his family looked like. It had been long, long ago when Ansem had found him and taken him by the hand away from them.

And one for Even, whose hands were always cold like ice against his own warm ones. Wait – hadn't he already given one to Even?

Maybe the rest of them could be for him, too.

_Dilan – "Dandelion"_

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a/n – I love the pairing Dilan/Even. Praises to Oni-Gil, who created a great new pairing (at least i think she's the original dil/even pairer). It's so sweet.


	3. Xehanort

"Careful not to slip, Xehanort. It's icy." Ansem called from the doorway.

But Xehanort was already outside, his hat snug around his head, with its little tassels flying behind him in the brisk air. He smiled brilliantly up at his teacher.

"Oh, don't worry, Master Ansem! I've got a pretty steady balance." He laughed, clouds of warmth appearing around his mouth, "It's Even and Ienzo you've got to be worried for. A good breeze would knock them both down!"

Ansem smiled and nodded. "When will you be back?" Xehanort thought for a moment, but shrugged.

"I don't know. I want to go down to a few bookstores, so you know that I won't be back for a couple hours." The apprentice smiled. "See you soon, Master Ansem."

And he was off. Ansem watched the little red pompom on Xehanort's hat bob up and down as the boy hurried down the street. He was right – he _did_ have good balance, despite the thick slippery ice on the sidewalks.

Ansem's words stuck in Xehanort's head like little magnets.

He was careful. He'd slipped once before. If he fell once more…

Aftre several hours, Xehanort was pulled out of his trance by the bookkeeper tapping his shoulder, saying it was time to close. Suddenly Xehanort panicked – it was getting cold and it was later than he'd expected…how long had he been there?

Xehanort left without any books and headed home. The lanterns flickered on around him. He held on to the little black rails on the edge of the sidewalk. His fingers hurt underneath his mittens.

He only wished that the road to darkness had the same sturdy handrails. Only the other day, in the secret laboratory, the others had been so kind as to pull him away from Ienzo, who he had pinned down on the floor after the child had refused to cooperate in the experiment. At the time, he'd felt fine about putting Ienzo in danger, but that night he'd been haunted by the evil feelings running through his body. A few days later, he found it even more difficult to resist the whispers of darkness that had invaded his mind.

As he reached the castle gate, he could see Ienzo's blue scarf in the distance, near the door. He looked up when Xehanort arrived.

"Sorry," Xehanort breathed, trying to catch his breath from the frantic run back, "I lost track of the time…did you wait here for me?"

Ienzo opened his mouth, but quickly closed it as he looked down, burying his face in the soft scarf, and he shook his head. "Ansem is waiting." It was all he said.

"Ienzo, I…" Xehanort lost track of his words. The darkness was back.

"I'm going inside. It's cold." The younger apprentice said suddenly, closing the door behind him.

Xehanort stared at the closed door. As he was reaching for the doorknob, he tripped on the mat. If not for the fact that he was holding onto the knob, he would have fallen once more.

_Xehanort - "slip"_

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Sorry it's been so long; other stuff goin' on here, but most of this stuff is already written up, and I'm too lazy to copy it from my notebooks onto my computer. Thanks for reviews!


	4. Ansem

It was getting to be the dark, warm autumn weather in Radiant Garden. Ansem knew that he had to host this...event before the winter came – and come it would, soon and quickly, despite the current warmth. He proposed the idea to his apprentices one morning.

"I was thinking," he began, "The duke and duchess are coming to visit. What do you boys think about holding the Royal Ball a bit earlier this year?" Ansem asked. His apprentices looked at one another. Ienzo wasn't happy.

"Why?" the child asked. "Do we even _have_ to hold a ball this year? Last year it was on my birthday, and nobody paid me any attention." The smallest apprentice pouted. Elaeus patted his head, but Ienzo jerked his head away.

"Ienzo, I can assure you that it won't be on your birthday. It will be in about a month, before it gets cold." Ansem explained, but Ienzo wasn't convinced and he continued to sulk.

"Well, I think it's a great idea!" Xehanort said. He liked the parties at the castle – the excitement and colors, the romance of it all, the emotions running wild. Ansem smiled.

"Do I have to play violin again?" Even asked in his usual bored tone.

"If you want to, Even. I'm not forcing you to, although you do play beautifully." Ansem said. Even stared for a moment, then got up and headed out of the door.

"I'd better start practicing, then."

* * *

The ball was held on a beautiful day, right when the trees were beginning to turn the extraordinary colors of autumn, and the castle grounds were bright and clean. The guests arrived in their silky clothes and fancy carriages, greeted by happy attendants.

Ienzo sat in a corner near the window, where he was making sure nobody saw him. He had been forced to dress in a dapper suit and, to complete his share of embarrassment, a top hat. He much prefered the clothes he _usually_ wore - they were comfortable and looked nice enough.

Xehanort found him.

"What are you doing all the way over here, Ienzo?" He asked, eyes were bright with happiness. Ienzo suspected that Braig had slipped something into Xehanort's drink, but he said nothing about it.

"I'm not going to be seen like this." Ienzo said, gesturing to his clothes.

"I'm wearing the same thing." Xehanort said, sitting down near him. It was true about their clothes, but…Xehanort's seemed to fit him better and he managed to look charming in it. "I think you look cute, Ienzo!" He smiled. Ienzo blushed a little – it was just like Xehanort to say that sort of thing. But apparently things could get stranger.

"Come on, Ienzo. Even's about to play his violin." He looked into Ienzo's eyes. "Dance with me, Ienzo." He whispered.

Ienzo got up and stepped away from his friend. "No! Xehanort, you're being weird." And he trotted off into the ballroom. It was easy to get away – getting hidden by hoops and bustles on the dance floor was not a difficult task – as he squeezed through chattering adults. He finally got to the other side of the room, went up the staircase to the library, and locked the door behind him.

Somewhere below, Ansem was welcoming the duke and duchess and their little daughter to the party, while Even played a sad song on his violin. And Xehanort stood in the middle of the dance floor, confused, and for the first time since he arrived at the castle, alone.

_Ansem – "dance"_

* * *

...well that didn't turn out the way I wanted. It was nicer in my head. I couldn't really...get the feeling of it right as I wrote it. Maybe I'll write up a nice separate story for it all; the duke and duchess need more explination. Guess who their kid is.

Yeah...Ansem gets a chapter (that's what happens when the die falls off the table and I also can't bear to write an entire chapter about him). Even's is next, and I've been waiting to post it. :D

Thanks for all the reviews, everyone!


	5. Even

"And don't come out, now." Xehanort's cruel voice called from far, far above. Even stared up at the chutes' openings around him, but he wasn't quite sure which one he'd been pushed down. He'd never even been into the laundry room. It was more like a dungeon. It was dark, but eventually he found the door against the wall. It was locked; the maids had a day off. _Of course. _So he was trapped. He slid down to the ground, ignoring the pain coming from his arms and head, the latter of which was most likely scratched from... Xehanort had shoved him down the chute carelessly…though Even couldn't think of a way that you could _carefully_ shove someone down a chute. One didn't generally shove people down a laundry chute, anyway!

His eyes now were adjusting to the dim light, and he could finally examine his surroundings: a fairly large room with piles of dirty clothes. He shuddered at the thought that he'd landed in a pile of things that had been _worn by_ _Braig_, but realized that the dirty clothes probably saved him from worse injuries. He'd have to thank Braig…once he got out of here. Other than the clothes and sheets on the floor, there were enormous washing machines, but not much else. Even spied a closet-like door ajar at the end of the room, and upon opening the door, he found a sort of maids' storage room with a dusty looking glass on the wall. There was a switch on the wall, and once he turned it on, Even could see that his forehead was bleeding…though he could tell from the mirror even before he turned the light on.

He contemplated calling for help, but he remembered that he was the only one in the castle besides Xehanort. The others were out in the city and wouldn't be back until evening…and it was barely noon. He supposed he'd have to sit and wait until they got back. There were no other ways to get out besides the locked door. He curled up in a heap of clean cottony sheets and began to wait. He got bored and went back to the closet.

Oddly, there was a wire birdcage hanging from the ceiling of the room. Strange…he'd have to speak to Ansem about that. That couldn't be sanitary. Upon further investigation, he found that it had been scrubbed clean so that it was white.

Even didn't want to reflect on what had happened that morning, but his mind had a bad habit of replaying things in his mind.

He'd really done nothing wrong, _except perhaps irritate Xehanort by reminding him to start working on his report._ Things had escalated quickly, _most likely due to the trouble Xehanort was having with that particular report. Xehanort never had run into this problem before, one that required him to remember something from his childhood, and it was then that he realized a frightening truth: There were memories that he might never get back, even with Ansem's help_. _That was when Xehanort's tantrum began, and_… _Xehanort hadn't hit him very hard – it was the fact that he _did_ that made Even step back and trip, leaving him vulnerable, and then Xehanort had simply shoved him into the laundry chute at the end of the room, where he'd tumbled down backwards until he landed in a soft mountain of sheets below._

Even shivered and took off his glasses. Blurred, warm vision tried to focus on the birdcage. For a moment, he swore that he saw himself in the cage.

_Even – "Birdcage"_

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A/N: Yay! I liked this'n. The part that was difficult to write was the location; in my notebooks it was always an attic (that seems like a better place for a birdcage) but I felt that a basement was better, because it fit the theme better (falling down)

Even is not a confident fighter (he's so..._uke_. Cool, it's the first time I ever used that adjective!). Ahem...where was I...oh, yes: Vexen carries a giant _shield_. Not exactly a big scary weapons, like, you know, aerial blades or scythes.

I'm back from the Obon Festival and just _had_ to upload this story. Expect 'Shukusai' to have a few more chapters soon, even though they're late late late!! I wanted to be finished by now. Ah, well - it was fun and I got lots of it on video, so now I won't forget in the middle of winter. You see, I'm making dance instructions featuring the Organization...and...I realized that I'm not talking about the fanfiction anymore...awkward...Okay then! Review, please! I love to hear your comments!!


	6. Elaeus

"That went well." Xehanort chimed, unstrapping an unconscious Ienzo from the table that they'd been working on, "he didn't screech _half_ as much as I thought he would."

"Only 'cause you practically knocked him out, with your kooky magic powers." Braig smirked.

"He's still a child. Darkness has a stronger effect on him." Xehanort replied matter-of-factly, disregarding the fact that he himself was still a child. "Here." He picked the young apprentice up off the table and handing him over to Elaeus. Elaeus said nothing. He simply held the Ienzo and stroked the child's silvery-blue hair.

Sensing the unease, Dilan suggested "Elaeus, why don't you take Ienzo up to his room. I'm sure he'll be fine. We'll clean up here, then meet you later." Dilan had a way of thinking things through and having things turn out well – a talent that Xehanort had yet to develop. "Braig, why don't you go, too?" He asked. Braig shrugged, joining Elaeus in the stairway. Anything to get out of work.

Elaeus nodded his head dolefully and he left, Ienzo slung over his shoulder like a baby asleep. But Ienzo was not a baby anymore, and he had a strange air about him that suggested more than sleep. Elaeus stepped carefully through the castle, as to not call any attention to himself. It didn't work; Ansem spotted him almost as soon as he was in the castle.

"Elaeus, Braig! Where've you be—what's wrong with Ienzo?"

"Oh, Master Ansem, he's fine! He just fell asleep – we were playing outside, and he hasn't been getting enough sleep, you know, with his night terrors, and we figured we'd just bring him up to his room." Braig said, quickly and deftly. Elaeus managed to nod in the appropriate places and smile, and Ansem believed them wholeheartedly, which made Elaeus feel even worse.

"Poor thing."Ansem muttered, peering over Elaeus's shoulder at his youngest apprentice. "Hope he can get to sleep tonight. He'll need to be well-rested if he wants to come with us on that field trip tomorrow. Oh – Braig, did you find those lenses for the telescope?"

Braig was frozen still for a moment, then "Oh, those! Yeah, I got 'em. Well, we'd better be going, then!" Elaeus shifted for a moment; Ienzo was slipping off of his shoulder. Ansem left and the boys sped toward the staircase.

Once they were safely in Ienzo's room, Braig let out a nervous laugh. "That was a close one. Do you think he suspected anything?"

"No, that was a pretty good explanation you thought up." Elaeus said quietly, as to not wake Ienzo, who was now tucked safely under the blankets. "I mean, most of it was true. He _has_ been having trouble with his nightmares again, and I guess…in a twisted way…we _were_ sort of…playing." He whispered the last word, shuddering.

Braig looked a little chilled suddenly. "I'm gonna go to my room. I need to look for those lenses." He smiled. "Until Ansem reminded me, I'd completely forgotten!" And he hurried off.

Elaeus sat down next to Ienzo on the bed, trying not to think of how he'd explain the experiments if Ansem ever found out. He looked at Ienzo for a long time after Braig left, a tired stare at the child who made him lose sleep as well. So many nights were left sleepless as he consoled Ienzo, who was so haunted by nightmares that he was awake for most of the night…or somewhere _near_ awake. Sometimes Ienzo would open his eyes, still asleep, calling for him…even though Elaeus was right next to him. Blinded by darkness. He would wait until Ienzo was awake, clinging desperately to him, crying and sniffling, then asleep again.

The same went for the experiments…Ienzo had a neverending stream of nightmares plaguing him, during the night _and_ day. _And it was his fault. For not stopping Xehanort. Why didn't he tell Ansem already? Maybe…maybe Ansem would forgive them. Why did he put up with Xehanort's blatant abuse of Ienzo? Of Even? Of all of them?_

_He didn't know._

When he was awoken by a somewhat-confused Even later in the evening, he didn't remember what his conscience had told him. Then Ienzo rolled over to his side and mumbled something that Elaeus couldn't understand. And then he remembered.

_Elaeus – "conscience"_

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Ah, the angst. I'm kinda getting tired of it...I need to write some happy things. :) I guess that's what I'll put in the next chapter. I wanted to switch theme-words halfway through, but I liked this enough to keep it.

heh heh, Ansem's so oblivious.

There's more on the way! Thanks to all who've reviewed so far.

I wanna get a deviantART account, so I can limn out these ideas instead of writing (which I love to do, but I like drawing even _more_). But school's going to start soon, so I don't want to get involved in something else...and it'd all be fan-art anyway :D But I still want to. Might encourage me to improve a bit, too, so I can't see _that_ much wrong with it.


	7. Braig

Braig never looked forward to the end of summer, not because of the fact that he and his friends had to go back to lessons all day, but because autumn usually meant that other rulers from other provinces had to come and visit. Radiant Garden was known for its seasonal beauty: its warm welcoming fall colors and powdery-snow winters with little cottages on the hillsides. And those who came to visit were the bizarre sort of kings and queens who spent little time ruling their kingdoms in favor of touring the wintry countryside.

Dilan and Even didn't seem to mind the company; they kept to themselves most of the time anyway, whispering secrets and differing homework answers, looking out for each other but still slightly shy around the visitors.

Ienzo _did_ mind the extra people, especially the monarchs who brought their small children with them, the ones who seemed to assume that Ienzo would be a fine playmate for their little abominations. Although he was still young enough to have to sit on the dictionary so that he could eat properly at the table; Ienzo, like many highly-intelligent children, preferred listening to Ansem and the guests talk rather than play hide-and-go-seek with the other children.

Elaeus didn't care one way or another, so he often would accompany Braig to the lake that was slowly freezing over and sketch the people walking by as Braig continued to complain about Ansem's friends. The visitors liked Elaeus. He was the sort of boy who looked like he'd had just one too many gingerbread cookies; with his pudgy cheeks and curly curly red hair, the sort of boy that grandmothers and aunts like to spoil absolutely rotten.

Xehanort had never met any of the kings and queens before, and he was quickly overwhelmed. The boy was taken around the castle by Ansem, led by the hand from place to place, meeting to meeting, important person to important person. This was not helped by the quickly-changing seasons; Xehanort had never even _seen_ snow. Everything felt so very new, and with everyone so eager to meet him and shake hands and have tea with him, this was four or five senses too many for him. He would walk with Braig along the little shops, happy to get away from the rush of people in the castle.

The duke and duchess were visiting _again_, wrapped in exotic-smelling fur coats, with their little daughter in tow. _Kairi_, Braig had been reminded again and again, was the girl's name, though he never remembered it. Ansem had prepared a warm welcome for them. Braig left after the first hour.

An hour passed, as Braig sat at the frozen lake, practicing his gravity magic as he stood tentatively above the thin layer of ice. He needed to be careful, to only let the slightest amount of his own gravity carry him across the water. If he slipped and fell into the lake…

"Braig!" a breathless Xehanort called suddenly, breaking the aforementioned apprentice's focus and in doing so, breaking the ice below. Braig fell. He glared at Xehanort when he used a strong magnet spell to pull him out, and he continued to glare as Xehanort apologized over and over for startling him.

"I'm fine, Xehanort!" He muttered, pulling his hat back over his ears. "Give it a res—"

"But Braig," Xehanort interrupted, "You could have frozen to death! If you would let me use a fire spell—"

Braig had enough; he put his gloved hand over Xehanort's mouth and Xehanort _finally_ stopped talking.

"Just…leave me alone, 'kay, Xehanort?" Braig half-smiled. Xehanort smiled as well, nervously. "Do you know what bothers me?" He tightened his hold of Xehanort's head just a bit. "It's that the duke and duchess and _everyone_ else are too stupid and fancy to care about anything else besides their own happiness. Have you seen their province? Don't nod your head at me, Xehanort, you've _never_ seen it. But _I _have. And I'll tell you," He began to lose control of his magic, letting gravity floe freely around them, and making Xehanort very dizzy, "It's a horrible place. It's a wonder that all the peasants haven't overthrown them yet!"

Braig suddenly let gravity resume its normal way, and he takes his hand off of Xehanort's mouth, letting the boy fall to the ground. Xehanort said nothing, musing that Braig's hands were very very cold.

"I hate them." Braig said, running back to the castle. Xehanort had never wondered about where Braig came from, but now he had a guess.

Braig arrived back at the castle, where Ansem and the Duchess were laughing over something that the Duke had told them. He stared at them for a long time, then he climbed the long staircase upstairs, without a word.

_Braig – "ostentation"_

* * *

Hey there! If you're a bit confused about how _any_ of that related to the word "ostentation", I am too. But I figured that braig was angry at…the royalty's flamboyance? That works…

Yes, I like to torture Xehanort. :3

Oh, and the "happy" I mentioned last time? Heh heh, maybe next chapter; I think I'm half-through with the chapters, so this'll be the sad part and the next part will be the happy. Had to squeeze this in.

Oh, and as for deviantART, I'm going to try and set up an account tomorrow morning :D (dances) oh, speaking of dances...the Paffendorf dance is totally stuck in my head!! 0o


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